Uh, guys?

I sense a moment in our lives!!

Sadness

John Hughes (February 18, 1950 – August 6, 2009)

Spells

ICK

Oh, Vanessa Hudgens. You think you're so damn sly. Your probably-a-piece-of-crap movie, Bandslam, comes to theaters tommorrow and someone decided to get a little press, right?

Wednesday

OUR HERO

What About Style?

Cruel edict.

I spent more than that on parfum yesterday.
And meals?....
Flowers?...
Everything she's wearing in this picture.
Her hair!

This reminds me of the time a girl I went to high school with, aged 14--let's call her January--made a titty-f***ing picturette with her boyfriend, a junior or senior just recently turned 18--let's call him Slater. Unbeknownst to January, Slater screened the venture for all of his dormmates. Eventually, the house-counselor got wind of it and then the cluster dean and some other deans and on and on. Technically, it was a matter of child pornography. Slater was sent home straight away, directed to be grateful (for not going to jail). And January, though not expelled or suspended, was subject to a bizarre series of strictures, all effective until her far-future graduation. Por ejemplo: she was banned from ever having a member of the opposite sex in her bedroom (a thing possible for all other students with house counselor approval). It was a god damn scarlet letter, an almost unbelievable, bitter, pointed sentence. January was quite a cool, resilient girl, and her parents were not so unrelenting as la escuela. All the same, that cabal of deans was wrong and power-abusing, and never made to answer for it.

Similarly, Ruth will have to report any possible expenditure that exceeds $100 to this fella. Here's hoping they fall in love?

McGanns

Good Morning. Good Morning.

how it is done

I'm a pretty cerebral dresser. I don't overthink. I don't over-anything. But there are those days when I feel thinky, and those when I feel like everything has just fallen out of the blue and onto me. The latter is clearly (rare and) ideal, and it's clearly how Brit Spears rolls each and ev-er-y zay. I don't straighten my hair and I don't wear ass-revealing, stretchy minidresses (as of 2004) and I don't wear giant crosses or smoke Marlboro Lights (as of 2006), but I fervently support Britney's explorations of all four of these avenues. Because they're not explorations so much as social destinyyyyyyys. And she looks good.